Month: October 2017

October 31, 2017 Kirk

the same

they say

but each rectangle tells a story.

Though their grandparents built the Great Wall

these here bricks lie prone

timid

unable to repel even a midget Mongol horde.

 

They sit here

beneath my feet

waiting to be trod upon.

 

Their story is a peaceful one

asleep at the Snowbasin

Mountain Resort.

 

Awaken!

Arise!

Commerce cannot sit still.

Sections of it have been rebuilt

re-told.

It’s for tourists, of course.

For education.

 

There’s even an alpine slide

they say.

 

It’s up at the Great Wall of China

they mean

not at the Snowbasin

Mountain Resort.

 

Kirk Merlin

 

October 27, 2017 Kirk

Hat and sunglasses

do not dampen the flare

of the mountain autumn sun.

Over the trees and

beyond the chairlift

it peeks

from behind the clouds.

 

Now it is hot

and getting hotter

as the hat hunkers

down.

 

But just then

the cooling clouds cross again

like the misunderstood emotions

of a new girlfriend.

 

The gondola sits empty.

This bench has but one.

A young man

alone

with his thoughts.

 

Kirk Merlin

 

October 18, 2017 Kirk

Let’s not use the term dive bar anymore.

May I suggest neighborhood bar or local joint.

Watering hole.

 

There’s still a jukebox against the wall

Maybe some pull tabs or peanuts

being eaten by folks not so different from you

getting through another day like a wildebeest on the serengeti.

 

What you call a dive

is someone’s surrogate family.

Someone’s watering hole.

October 18, 2017 Kirk

There’s an energy vortex in Sedona, AZ

that has a female orientation.

Or so they say.

It lives along both sides of the stream

underneath the red rock buttes.

There’s a male vortex, too,

and two more that are said to be equally balanced.

Trans? Bi?

This morning I entered the female vortex carrying provisions enough to spend the day.

But not the night.

My trusty tent is waiting for me

next to the campground latrines

underneath

the crooked sky.

October 17, 2017 Kirk
Unlike last night in the desert
The Forest makes a crooked frame
around the starry sky
And the neighbors’ campfires and headlamps fight for my eyes attention.
Not to mention the floodlights
Draped in moths
Over the doors to the looming latrines.
The shadow of my compact car is too small to hide behind.
Needs more moths.